


Aren't You

by Tsuukai



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Directing Cooking Lesson, Failing At Grocery Shopping, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4839107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuukai/pseuds/Tsuukai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where it starts off as Midorima directing the recipe, but it's actually Kagami doing the work, though it really wasn’t about food this time around anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aren't You

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

I was a little frustrated today, and while figuring out what to do about a fic I was working on, this suddenly nibbled at me.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You didn't use a tablespoon.”

 

Taiga paused a millisecond before he continued on. “It’s okay; I eye-balled it."

 

A scoff. “Did it say to eye-ball a tablespoon?”

 

“No,” Taiga was decidedly annoyed, but he continued stirring the pot until the mixture thickened up enough for his taste.

 

“Then you didn't add a tablespoon,” Midorima sighed, folding his arms across his chest, standing straight and unmoving in the kitchen far enough not to be a hassle, but close enough to snipe. “Follow the recipe.”

 

“I am!” Taiga raised his voice by a few decibels, deterministic, tone dropping to his usual indoor voice after. “It's going to be fine; trust me.”

 

“If I trusted you in getting everything on the grocery list, we'd be sitting and eating cup noodles today.”

 

Taiga could distinctively feel his eye twitch. “I forgot that I finished the beef yesterday, I'm sorry.” Then realising what was happening, his jaw tightened, glaring over his shoulder. “Oh my God, you will never let me off for that! Today was the first time! First!”

 

Midorima scoffed, again, turning to face away. "You try buying meat in my scrubs in the middle of rush hour and then find out there was a limited sale in the supermarket for said beef." A grimace paints his usually stoic face. “I was walking home with makeup smeared on my torn scrubs and nothing to cover the large gaping hole in my back.”

 

"God forbid it wasn't your pant," Taiga muttered into his tasting bowl, slurping the sauce he had cooled. Without needing to turn around to face him, he could already feel Midorima bristle.

 

“What was—wait! It said to simmer _before_ you add in the beef!!”

 

“But the beef you got is thick sliced, Midorima...” Taiga complained, slowly dropping the pieces into the pot. "I told you, don't worry about it. I know what I'm doing.”

 

“As if I would—” Midorima never got to finish his sentence; Taiga reached over, grabbing hold of the taller man’s face, the expression of intent hard to miss. Smug, Taiga was not prepared for the palm in his face. “Idiot.”

 

This time, Taiga was the one bristling. “Why’d you smack my face?!”

 

“Why did you have to come so close?!”

 

“Because I was tryin’ to kiss you!”

 

“Why would you want to do that?!”

 

Now Taiga didn’t know what was worse: that he had to explain it to him or that Midorima looked honestly confused to the turn of events.

 

“So you could taste it,” Taiga tried saying, and Midorima actually looked surprised, pushing up his glasses to mask the slip of expression, then with a blush, “You barbarian, I can—”

 

“Did you really think I’d do that?!” Taiga wanted to know. The other male remained quiet, stunned mute. “Did I even need a reason to kiss you, you glasses freak?!” With the slip of tongue, Taiga was expecting to get a fist in his face—though ever since Midorima got into Medical school, he had refrained from doing virtually anything damaging to his fingers—but what Taiga did not expect was the reddening of the blush on the other’s face. “What?”

 

Midorima tried to cover himself up, unsuccessfully, making Taiga reach over to grab at his hand exasperatedly.

 

“Why can’t you just tell me what’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” Taiga mumbled roughly, huffing as he came closer.

 

“Stop it,” Midorima muttered, turning his flushed face away again. “Don’t come so close.”

 

Taiga was sure that despite being the gruff man he was, he was pouting. _This stupid guy_ , “Oi!” He flicked his finger into Midorima’s forehead, receiving a scandalised gasp in return, but it did its job and now wide green eyes were looking straight at him. “What’s your problem with me today? It can’t be just the groceries. Somethin’ else is bothering you.”

 

Midorima frowned, smooth forehead furrowing ever so slightly before he tried to cover it up again, only to realise that Taiga was still holding his left hand captive. Refusing to struggle like a child, it took more minutes than he had patience for, before Taiga realised the stove was still on. Immediately abandoning Midorima for a second, he rushed to the violently shaking pot lid, put off the gas and stared at the closed cooking dish for a second. Taiga takes a deep breath, and then continues to busy himself, guise of forgetting what the two of them were talking about up in the air.

 

If Midorima didn’t want to talk about it…

 

“Boyfriend.”

 

Taiga blinked, the tasting dish inches away from his lips. He cocked his head to the side, then over his shoulder and blinked again at Midorima. “Huh?”

 

Midorima was looking more and more like a neon sign for the red-light district with his red skin and green hair, glasses framing demurely batting eyelashes. With a spit-glimmering pair of lips shaking as they parted softly to say, “Boyfriend” again, Taiga was at a loss.

 

“…What is it?”

 

It seemed to frustrate the tall man, but he remained as rigid as he was from before. However, Taiga noticed how one hand was placed on the extended counter beside him, whole arm straining with effort. Green hair falling to the front of his face made a shadow over flushed cheeks and honestly, Taiga has never seen Midorima like this before.

 

“You’ve,” it looked as if Midorima was churning the words in his mouth, “never…said it before. Boyfriend.”

 

Taiga doesn’t think he is registering what Midorima is saying or implying. But, “…Aren’t you, though?” He asked. Midorima paused, long lashes fluttering before those sharp intelligent green eyes slide to face him. “My boyfriend?”

 

And if it was even possible, Midorima burns redder than Taiga could have guessed. He can feel a slight pressure build around his eyes, and Midorima’s own eyes are darting from one corner to another, looking around, almost searching for an escape.

 

There is a little flutter in his chest. It starts soft and slow, turning faster and faster, and it suspiciously sounds like his heart is picking up speed needlessly in its confines.

 

Midorima still doesn’t move.

 

Taiga finds that unbelievably precious.

 

“Oi,” he calls out. The change of voice makes Midorima snap his eyes at him. He places a hand on his chest, rubbing at it, “Come here a sec.”

 

Hesitating, but glancing at the motion Taiga is partaking in, Midorima frowns but follows the request—because he will never accept a command—and soon they are facing each other again.

 

“I think you need to check me,” Taiga says, watching green eyes widen before impeccably narrowing, taking in signs and watching every move Taiga makes. “My chest is starting to feel funny…”

 

“You sure it isn’t indigestion?” Midorima is quick to ask, already preparing his acid reflux speech that Taiga has been hearing on and off for the past three weeks; curse that Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease seminar the doctor-in-training had attended. “Maybe all that—”

 

This time Taiga doesn’t fail. He quickly leans in, the hand not rubbing his chest moving to cup Midorima’s smooth cheek, and then curls it as softly as he can behind the man’s lobe, tugging it as he deepens the surprise kiss. When he pulls away, he grins, saying, “Ah, it went away.”

 

It takes a few seconds for any comeback, and then Midorima’s stoic mould snaps into pieces and he bellows in the kitchen, “You imbecile! You should never make fun of—!”

 

“But I wasn’t,” Taiga protested, hands now trying to desperately push against a strong muscular upper torso. Damn Midorima’s years perfecting his three-pointers and the arm strength needed to throw a million of it in one season because it meant he was unnaturally stronger than Taiga. “It really felt funny and now it’s gone!”

 

Not that Midorima was buying it.

 

“It’s just that,” Taiga licked his lips, feeling a smidge awkward for voicing his thoughts on the matter, “when you complained about my lack of using the word, there was the urge to kiss you.”

 

Said lips used in the kiss pursed into a think line.

 

“And I’ll say it no matter how many times as you want me to,” Taiga was haggling, but Midorima suddenly snapped back into attention.

 

“No need!” He tried turning away, but Taiga wrapped his arms around his chest. “You can’t even read a simple grocery list, what will you bother listening to anything else I say?” Midorima griped.

 

Well, Taiga fell into that one.

 

“You really will not forgive me for that, will you?” The beginning of a headache was starting up.

 

“You aren’t the one _banned_ from going to that store due to public indecency, are you?!”

 

And with a slackened jaw, Taiga realised the problem. “Ah.”

 

Taiga really wasn’t going to be forgiven for this.

 

* * *

 

**Author's End Note:**

Yup. Just gonna leave it here.

Kinda need to fill this tag more, you know...?

 


End file.
